


Red Angel

by HelenofTroy



Category: Frontier (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 11:11:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11690436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenofTroy/pseuds/HelenofTroy
Summary: The misterious past of Grace Emberly and Declan Harp and how her presence changed the Declan´s life forever, like something inevitable, disturbing his inner peace and turning the bad things for his dearest beings in hope but filling his soul of a strange restlessness. A rare & cute mix invested with the purest sentiments of friendship & attraction is what she woke up on him...and yet after all what happened with Lord Benton yet weak up, as a result of something that Declan could not deny. Present & Past are both joined forever for both.This is about the Declan´s feelings for her before, after and always....Declan speaks of her finally. His most sacrest secret and no one knows.(+) i called Aiyanna to the Declan´s wife instead her real name because is a great indian name with a deep meaning.="ever blooming flower" or "eternal blossom"





	Red Angel

**Author's Note:**

> But her vision disturbed my mood, and then I heard her voice in the darkness.  
> I embraced her in that same darkness and in the name of my pain i gave to my desire for her the freedom. 
> 
> A selfish freedom.

"Who is Grace Emberly for me?” “This is not the question, this is not the matter. This question would not deserve a worthy response, and there is none. Because for me she was not the merchant, for me she was not the owner of a tavern and the confessor of all the dark secrets of this town. For me she was not the strong woman she is now, the owner of all the business transactions and dark plots that envelop Lord Benton. For me she was a red angel...because like the angels she brought the salvation to me, and yet, lost as i´m in this endless hell where i don´t find the calm yet she tries against the own nature of bring me back. 

She was once an angel, the most purest angel in heaven for me. Born between the white people, she always was like the star she got up earlier to brighten up this heaven she called land before and does not do it anymore.  
I finished with the pearly white of the Grace´s wings, with the purity of her body as that of her soul. And I dyed his wings of blood red white.

The elders of my tribe often joked about her hair color. They said it was red because of me, because I had brought the blood into her life. So it was.

 

The true question is what does she mean now? and what did she mean for me before? Over all before.

 

Now she means for me the medicine, but while a time, several years ago, she was the fever, the obsession, she was a deviation from my heart, an erroneous look from me. Someone who could not be for me, for social position, for family, for respect to my ancestors, and for life. I still remember the first time i saw her. Her face, in the mist of that damn window, of Lord Benton’s house. I came back to my home. 

I remember how i had had a vision that same day, while Aiyanna, my sweet fiancee, and her maids were making arrangements for our wedding. They made knots in the new bridles of our horse.  
A bay horse I had bought for Aiyanna, my woman. 

For the consecrated horse with which we would gallop through the prairies of our Holy Brothers, and with which Aiyanna would open both hands to give thanks to our ancestors while I would lead her to a new future.

A new door closed for Aiyanna and me, and a brighter one opened.  
Our youngest years were behind us. We began our authentic life.  
My father had told me long ago that days before my wedding the Great Spirit would visit me warning me of something very important in my life.  
It was that morning, the day I met Grace Emberly.

 

I was resting in the tent, feeling the light rain fall, mixed with the sound of women's soft voices outside. In my vision my bridal horse ran toward me, but it was red. Tears of blood fell on him. Aiyanna's footprints wet in the sacramental blood were extinguished, and the horse's back was blood-borne, at first few drops.

Then it was a big puddle. The horse did not move, and I was motionless. I could barely move.  
My bare feet shuddered at the approaching blood.  
Ayanna cried, but I could not go to her aid, everything was in vain.

Desperate, I wanted to flee. But I couldn´t . It was a matter of time before the river of blood reached me.

Then she appeared, an unknown figure. It was a woman, wrapped in a red cloak, even more so than the blood. She stood in front of the horse and touched the horse, stoping the bleeding. The blood running down the floor suddenly subsided.

I thought maybe she was my mother or my sister dead. But she was no woman of my race. But a white woman.  
I knew it because when her hood was lowered her red hair like fire, burning with the ferocity of that blood ran down her back.  
I wanted to call her, but I did not know her name. I wanted to touch her, but I could not reach her. 

After that, the That angel of blood approached my horse and whispered words impossible to understand in his ear, but I also heard them. Her voice was ethereal, irreal. 

Then she let the horse go, and she began to walk away little by little.

-Wait - I said, but it was in vain. The woman walked away in silence. I wanted ask her for Ayanna, where my woman was. But was in vain, she did not come back. I yet can see me opening the eyes to the reality, worried for Ayanna. 

-Aiyanna, Aiyanna...-i screamed and Aiyanna came to me. I hugged her. I felt that time wanted to take her away from me, that I had so little time to be with her ...

-What´s wrong with you, Declan?-Aiyanna asked to me. Her dark hair was cutter as our tradition. Her beautiful big eyes did not get calm me down. The fear seized me in that moment, exactly like in the same moment that i saw to Grace sitting at Lord Benton's table, through the glass filled with mist by the rain.

But something in the face of that woman who looked through the window, above the head of the other guests made me stop in my way.  
I wish I never would have. Hopefully i would have taken my knife and i´d have sunk it in my heart. 

 

She did not even get up from the table, though she noticed my presence.

Something roared inside me, it was as if a great wave was about to explode in my chest and I could not even move at the blow that awaited me.

Same as in the vision. 

But i did not think in my vision in that moment, this happened later. I was lost in the figure of that unknown woman. 

I almost could see my image in her green eyes. My severe expression of bewilderment, almost fierce, with my hair loose from my usual pick-up for work.

Tired of bearing the burden and transporting the liquor boxes, my shoulders were swollen under my fur coat, trimmed by the sleeves. My two knives in my hands. For her i was a real savage.

 

I just saw her closed dress, full of rhinestones.

She was not dressed that afternoon as she uses to do now. She was the white woman, the woman forbidden to any man like me. But she was much more than a simple woman for me, she was not real. Surely i was the only one able to see her there, through the wet glass. 

She felt self-conscious by my expression, I know. She looked at her plate in that instant that seemed more than a thousand years to me, before I resumed my journey, tormented. 

Her timid expression showed all her beauty guarded. She was one of those people who reflect the beauty of her spirit on his face as the elders say.

I did not stop thinking about her during dinner, nor when I slept hot by the embers, embracing Aiyanna. 

When i went to the city two days later, she was nowhere, even though i looked everywhere for her. Only while i was visiting the tavern of the Old Jimmy Lord Benton appeared, touching my arm. 

-Hey, Declan what´s happening? Are you looking for someone? -he said, turning on his pipe. 

For the moment he was a good patron, i knew anything of what i learned later of him. He was only the white man In need of a guide in that world, of a wealthy merchant.

-No, sir-i said slowly-but....

-Yes? -his smoke stained the fresh air. 

-Have you got any guest in your house, Lord Benton? should i know something?-Declan asked, hurting his patron´s proud. Benton always was the only one in "make the questions" as he asked to all his workers in the first day he met him. 

-Mmmh i see-he said-I see the news fly, Declan. In fact I have a small partner in this business. For me she is very valuable. I've given her some provisions to get her installed and you know, spend the winter.

-Oh i see. Thanks for telling me sir-i said-do you want something more? 

-Yes, i want you here the next wednesday, a new whiskey shipment will come and I need you-he said. 

-I´ll be here, Lord Benton-said Declan, leaving. 

-That woman asked for you too, i told her she was gonna to work with you, Declan-said Benton leaving too-so she´ll go to see you soon. Don´t worry about that. All is right. 

Lord Benton was a man of few words. All those people were like his slaves, Declan knew that. All that white people came with him, including that white woman were his workers, but for him were his slaves. His treatment to them was cold, was dissapointing. And his promises, a lie. 

He yet did not have that house he dreamed once. Aiyanna did not ask for it, but despite what the traditions of his people would have to say, he knew because his middle white blood that have a roof over their heads wold be the best. 

Only the next day before dawn the white woman was there, in front of my tent, waiting to talk to me.  
Her long white dress made her look like part of the lake, she seemed to float in the water.  
-Hello i´m Grace Emberly-she said-i bring food, medicines for your people-she said, pointing the two bring coats that she had brought with the man who was waiting for her in the ship.  
-Lord Benton asked to you do this?-i hardly could ask to her. My voice was hoarse, bewildered. My interest in her was obvious.  
She nodded as she walked away. But I knew she was lying.

Aiyanna approached to her, and said the only word that she knew in english. 

-Thanks

The red Angel suddenly smiled, looking to Aiyanna with tenderness. 

All my feelings for her were a strange mix of gratitude, friendship, connection, empathy, generosity and devotion.She was the unknown person of my vision.

I knew had felt this for nobody before. 

She looked me and said before leaving: 

-She´s precious, you´re a lucky man having this woman as your wife, wait, i have something for her-said going to the ship. 

Then Grace took from the boat flowers as white as her dress and placed them in the lap of Aiyanna, who looked at me in astonishment.

-Tell her it's a gift for your wedding. White means purity, love and peace-said Grace. 

-Thank you, miss-i said. What more could I have said? 

I was lost, i was happy for me and for Aiyanna. When Grace Emberly left, Aiyanna asked me a lot of things of her that i couldn´t answer her. 

While the next years Grace was our best friend between all the white people, I still remember it well.  
The spikes that fell on my hands made me think of her every year, the color of her hair, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her generosity with us.It happened while I loved another while I had a family. Aiyanna had to our child one year after our wedding. 

When once Aiyanna had gone with our son to the city, two arrogants white women did not want buy to her new clothes. They said that our son surely was responsible for having a plague of lice in school. Our son was going to the school only two hours at day from three ages. 

-Go out of here, dirty indian! -Aiyanna told me that the white dogs said to her-and take with you to your stained bastard.  
-Let her alone-said Grace, taking two Benton´s men with her-she has right to be here. 

-But is her son´s fault of....

-I won´t hear you anymore, your behavior is unworthy of the white people. Is our right defend this people and not mistreat them, i feel shame of white people like you. -said Grace, taking our son in her arms and Aiyanna by her shoulders and accompanied her to the market up the hill. It was more expensive, but there they treated Aiyanna like a human being, thanks to her. 

The merchants there were anothers. Indians and white were siblings in that part of the city. 

Grace opened her tavern in that time, chosing a men´s business. Was not strange for me. 

Grace opened her arms to us, over all to Aiyanna, who was her best friend in our camp. I did not let to Aiyanna go to the city without the Grace´s company. 

Together they saw fall the day while the most hottest summers. Aiyanna learned much more words in english thanks to Grace, and we used to talk a little of everything before a good bonfire with the whiskey brought for Gracie. All us called her "Gracie". And this name suited to her better than Grace. 

She was the grace itself.  
Grace was our only friend, that refuge in which my wife and my son had long ago found salvation in the cold of winter and the hunger of a society that denied them.  
That was Grace Emberly for me. She was my summer, but i´d be her winter forever very soon. 

Even in the measures of our most measures of peace, my curiosity for her was there, though absolutelly covered with the mutual respect that we felt one for each other.  
I knew that when we stroked together the loins of Lonely Moon, the horse he'd gotten for Grace. Our hands clashed with each other.

That was when it happened. She wanted to take her hand away, but I held her tight. I told her, I had to tell her. 

-I once saw you, before I met you, in a vision.  
-What kind of vision? -she asked me  
-Was a vision of salvation-i said, feeling yet more curiosity for her. 

She smiled in silence. 

-Oh Declan i´m not like the Virgin Mary-she said-in fact in two weeks ago i did not go to the Church. I´d be burning if we´d live in the Middle Ages. 

Her soft joke hardly make me laugh, but for once i did it. I hate the white people´s jokes, but i always have liked all what Grace said and made for us. 

I looked her hair, so long now, her light complexion, but strong spirit, her angelic face bringing to us the peace, his china skin, so similar to my mother´s...She was like a doll of those in the marriage´s cakes. 

"She´s so beautiful" i hunted to myself thinking. 

I was afraid she would marry, I admit it. For months and months i always managed to get Aiyanna to ask her if any man was courting her. When a woman asks to another is better, something almost normal in them. 

We pretended in our courtesy that it was pure gossip. But I was worried and that worry made me feel hurt. Hurt because i felt it was not fair to my wife or Grace.

Why was i so obessed with her? Why her light presence between us always was disturbing me? if it was not love what it was? 

My vision, my vision surely. But why? Salvation...she was saving us in some way, indeed. But her joy when he said to her that we were gonna to be parents again, make me think that i was wrong, that all was gonna to be ok.  
Even when our son slept in Grace´s house, and when i went to search him to the next day i kissed her in her cheek. I I should never have done it. 

My vision of her started to change, like the water of a river that change when it is nearer to the sea. My fever for her started, just when the storms came for me. 

The river of the blood arrived to my life. My blue shores filled with blood.  
Neither could Grace contain it, nor save me this time.

Benton broke the heart of my chest by snatching Aiyanna, and my children.  
It was all a red storm. 

Everything that was not red died for me in that bloody vision.

Grace was my refuge, my only friend when the storm came and shook my naked body until almost break it. She covered my naked body when i tried kill myself in the forest with her own hands, and took me with her. 

In my darkest night, In the midst of my cries of pain, his voice was there beside me.  
-They will always live in your heart, let them live-Grace said to me. 

 

Between my alcoholic mists she pushed the bottle away from me, filling me with new hopes of salvation.

-Do not erase your pain with alcohol, let it out. I have seen what alcohol does to men for years, let the longing for your family rest in peace. Even Christ fell. Even your spirits are in pain, is not a shame let the feelings go out, Declan. 

Then i remember how i barely saw her face in middle of that darkness of that High room where she had locked up so I would not do myself any harm. 

I only remember what i felt. The acts I did, every movement, every push and every corner to which I submitted to Grace. Everything was reprehensible. Everthing was made in the name of the pain. 

In the name of the pain I felt for the loss of mines I let go of all the desire I felt for her, that's the truth.

 

In the name of mourning and doom, blindness, and as price for what , she demanded of me for doing what she told me, not to crumble at all and to take my life, I demanded her body. 

She covered my wet mouth with her mouth instead with the bottle of alcohol and when i caught her, I never let her go again.  
For days I was pouncing on her like a hungry beast, and we were both part of the darkness. I stripped her of her clothes, broke her pants with those hands that were claws, not hands.  
I accidentally scratched her body as she opened like a flower almost begging me not to devour her in my pain, my impetus. I stole her virginity when i did not have right. This treasure of her, destined for another man. For her true love, but at same time mine...only MINE...

I whispered in her ear words in my own tongue, and after making love to her I embraced her in the dark as if i was a child in search of his mother, in search of my red angel. We were lovers, but we kept after that time this madness in our minds, the hiddest possible. I left that room when my mind came to me.  
And now after such years, she receive me as her friend, she yet helps me as she just would have met me. Such is her good heart. Such is her sweetness with me. I feel that i love her with all the few strenght that my heart is capable of, everytime i see her, eveytime she take my hand and ask me to stop.  
I feel that i´d kiss her lips and i´d want search my salvation with her. But Aiyanna and my children, they´re dead, they are my past and they´re my reason. Now the only truth between Grace and me is our mutual friendship and alliance. The Ashes of our reprehensible encounter are already part of the past. We are both like two acquaintances, like two distant siblings that we visit sometimes and we help each other kindly. My loyalty to her has grown, as hers to me. There is no longer that passion forced by pain more than small lashes that harass us both sometimes, but still hurt. In her face I read the pain, I know that against her will still awaits me. And I hope she saves me, though it will never happen. We are two friends in the middle of a war, two acquaintances with no more right than respect. Everything has been left behind, but with memories, with reticence. I repeat to myself the name of my wife. "Aiyanna, Aiyanna". Revenge is my only reason to live now, and Grace's is survival. That's all we have left. None of us will prevail any furth, i don´t know when i will come back to her again. All what i have is my hate, and that hate does not have the Grace´s name. But Benton´s. 

 

But i know one thing: -Who was she? -Someone will ask me when the gates of death open to receive me, and my ancestors await me smiling, while the horses run in the white meadow , full of cotton and the dogs sleep before our tents, the snow falling without cooling, shining the sun without burning.  
But I will not say the name that everyone is waiting for.  
Not if I want to be with them again.  
-Grace Emberly- will be the name I will respond to.  
Not because I am not going to enter in The Sacred Prairie, in that heaven where my wife and son are waiting, where my father kisses my mother on the cheek, and where my mother offers me the first flowers of the season.  
But because Grace was my “She” and would be again & again if I lived a thousand of lives more. This never will change. 


End file.
